


your heart is the only place that I call home

by elegantidler



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Season/Series 02, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, they're both trans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 01:17:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14944926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elegantidler/pseuds/elegantidler
Summary: Domestic little scene set during s2 cohabitation featuring dancing





	your heart is the only place that I call home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SAMH0UND](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SAMH0UND/gifts).



> To me, they're dancing to Piaf's La Vie En Rose (the original French) because that's what I was listening to on repeat while I was editing this

Ed comes home after a particularly trying day at work to find Oswald, out of bed, still dressed in Ed’s pajamas, sitting on the floor and leaning against the couch.

He has pulled Ed’s quilt off the bed and wrapped it around his shoulders and surrounded himself with Ed’s record collection, sorting them into several small piles, one playing on the record player.

Ed loves seeing Oswald like this. He fits here, wrapped in Ed’s quilt, comfortable among Ed’s things. He looks at home in Ed’s loft and he fills the space and gives it a warmth Ed has never managed by himself.

Ed sits down beside him, their knees brushing and they sit there, just listening to the music. Ed lets the discomfort of the day drift away from him and Oswald takes comfort in Ed’s presence after being away from him and alone all day.  

It’s so easy between them now. They’ve settled into something resembling domesticity without even realizing it.

Oswald wants to be here with Ed and Ed wants to keep coming home to Oswald.  

The last few rays of the sun cast long gilded shadows across the loft and are gradually replaced by the cool green glow of the sign outside the windows.

And still they sit.

“What can you do with a partner or on air but if you add a song in the wrong way it becomes a long, drawn out affair?” Ed asks suddenly, startling Oswald out of his drifting thoughts.

Before Oswald can even start to answer, Ed is rushing forward, hands fidgeting, words spilling out.

“Dancing. Do you know how to dance? Because I’ve never danced with anyone really and I’ve always wanted to, but I know I won’t be good at it. And I never had anyone to dance with.”

He looks expectantly up at Oswald, whose brain is still trying to catch up to Ed’s rapid words.

“I do know how to dance,” is all he manages to get out.  

“Can you show me?”

Ed’s face is so earnest and Oswald feels fondness bloom in his chest.

He un-cocoons himself from the quilt and sets it down behind him on the couch.

“Help me up.”

Ed stands and offers his hand to Oswald.

Pulling himself up, Oswald keeps one hand holding Ed’s and uses his other to guide Ed’s free hand to his waist before placing his own free hand on Ed’s back.

Ed blinks rapidly at the close contact but he doesn’t back up or drop Oswald’s hand.  

Leaning slightly heavier on Ed than he would like, Oswald starts to sway and step side to side in time with the music and after a brief moment of resistance, Ed moves with him.

“Aren’t there supposed to be specific steps? Or some sort of routine or pattern?”

Of course Ed would try to break it down to a science.

“There doesn’t have to be. Stop over thinking it, just feel the music.”

Ed frowns.

“Where did you learn how to dance?” He asks, looking down at his feet, concentrating hard.

“My mother,” Oswald says smiling a little sadly, “after I came out she said if I was a man I was going to be a gentleman and taught me how to be one.”

Ed looks up from his feet to smile kindly at Oswald.

“She sounds like a wonderful woman. I’m sorry I never got to meet her.”

He thinks of his own mother and frowns again.

“The last time I tried dancing, my mother kept yelling at me to stop messing with my dress.”

Oswald squeezes Ed’s hand, reassuringly.

“I’m sorry.”

Ed shrugs, not quite nonchalant.

“It was a long time ago.”

Oswald takes a step forward, closing the small space between them and leans forward to rest his head on Ed’s shoulder, his hair tickling Ed’s cheek.

“I’m still sorry,” Oswald says into Ed’s collarbone, “they didn’t deserve you.”

Ed freezes under him for a split second and Oswald is afraid he’s overstepped, but then Ed moves his hand from Oswald’s waist and brings it up to rest between Oswald’s shoulder blades, holding him close.

Oswald’s leg and shoulder are starting to twinge with pain but he wouldn’t move from this moment for anything, so he just leans on Ed and Ed is more than happy to help support him.

Eventually, Ed stops trying to analyze everything. He concentrates on the warmth of Oswald’s hand on his back and the softness of his hair against his cheek. He thinks about how happy Oswald makes him and how amazing it is that Oswald is still here, still wants to stay with him, and is teaching him how to dance for no other reason than because Ed asked.

His loft has never felt like home as much as Oswald does.

He feels all of this and he feels the music and this moment and they just dance together.

He still thinks there are more correct ways to dance, technically, but this, this is better.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm apparently on a Florence song lyrics as titles kick so once again, the title of from Florence and the Machine's 'Heartlines'


End file.
